


The Heat of a Fire and a Hard, Toned Body

by Thunder_of_Dragons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, BAMF Charlie Weasley, Bonfires, Christmas, Common Welsh Greens, Consent, Dragon Sanctuary Accountant Draco Malfoy, Dragons, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Fred Weasley Lives, H/D Fan Fair 2019, Hebridean Blacks, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Ireland, Longbottom's Specialty Ale, M/M, Men Who Love Dragons Too Much - Freeform, Minor Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini, Mistletoe, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry Potter, Open Relationships, Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Puddlemere United, Quidditch, Quidditch Injuries, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley's poorly timed snoring, Sharing A Tent, Tent Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Zabini's Quality Dragonhide, discussion of 8th year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_of_Dragons/pseuds/Thunder_of_Dragons
Summary: After a Quidditch injury puts Harry on the bench for the rest of the season, he’s left trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do now. Enter a gorgeously fit dragon trainer who’s just looking for a good time and the unexpected appearance of a former foe who’s exuding confidence, and there’s no wonder Harry is horribly confused about what he wants. But seriously, who gave Malfoy the right to look that handsome in leather?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley, Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 281





	The Heat of a Fire and a Hard, Toned Body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elle Gray (Elle_Gray)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle_Gray/gifts).



> This was originally written for the 2019 H/D Fan Fair, but getting married got in the way and hard revising to this fic got put on the back burner. Even though this fic wasn't able to be included, I'd still like to send a huge thanks to the H/D Fan Fair mods for putting this fest on and to whoever submitted Prompt #32! This is the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I had an absolute blast writing it! I’d like to thank my wonderful beta, keyflight790! This fic wouldn’t be anywhere near as wonderful without all of their help. Thanks also go to onereader and Zopno for all of their cheerleading, which is gratefully appreciated! I also want to say one last thank you to ElleGray for her suggestion on spelling the snoring noise!
> 
> Update: I've since found out that ElleGray is the one who submitted Prompt #32, which is quite ironic considering she provided suggestions for this fic. Thank you, Elle, for the wonderful prompt! I hope this has lived up to your expectations!

# The Heat of a Fire and a Hard, Toned Body

“I’ll get it, Mum!” Charlie shouted as he hurried to the front door of the Burrow. He walked quickly down the front hallway, ducking around the boughs of garland the twins had charmed to reach out and entangle mindless passerby. Opening the front door wide, he took in the sight before him.

Glimmering in the glow of the Christmas lights, scattered snowflakes clung onto tousled black curls that were tumbling over an undercut and framing an elegant, round face. Harry’s emerald eyes, no longer hiding behind round black frames, shone as he looked at Charlie. Harry had had his eyesight corrected eight years ago after he’d caught a rather nasty bludger to the face that had completely destroyed his glasses. His soft pink lips curled up in the corners, creating dimples in his rosy cheeks. Harry was wearing a maroon top coat similar to his late godfather’s, a dark gray scarf, a pair of slimming black trousers that Charlie imagined would leave little to the imagination once the coat was shed, and a pair of knee-high dragon hide boots. His right arm was cradled by a silver Muggle sling, and there was a duffel bag thrown over Harry’s left shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Charlie!” Harry shouted as he entered the Burrow... or as he, well, _tried_ to enter the Burrow. His feet were stuck. “Err, can I come in?”

Charlie turned his head to glance upwards, and then he chuckled and pointed to a small sprig of leaves with white berries hanging from the doorframe. “Enchanted mistletoe, I’m afraid,” he apologized. “It keeps moving all over the house.” Charlie leaned in closer to Harry, brushing a strand of his own auburn hair behind his ear. “Do you mind?”

Harry looked up at Charlie, and every thought he’d ever had left his brain. 

“Err… no?” Harry whispered into the space between them.

Leaning in closer, Charlie’s lips brushed Harry’s, caressing them. Charlie’s eyelids fluttered closed as his heartbeat sped, and he decided Harry’s lips were the softest lips he had ever kissed. When he pulled away, Charlie opened his royal blue eyes to see Harry standing still, his eyes still closed and his lips parted, as if he hadn’t realized the kiss was over yet.

Charlie spared a glance towards the top of the doorway, slightly disappointed to see that the mistletoe had decided to move to another part of the house. He clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder and said, “Well, we’d best get you out of the cold now. It’s good to see you, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes popped open and he smiled shyly, blushing madly as he stepped into the Burrow.

“It’s good to see you, too, Charlie.”

* * *

Harry dropped his duffel bag by the staircase and stepped into the kitchen. He was immediately enveloped in a hug that was just a bit too tight. Just a bit. Maybe. It was hard to think. Was he actually breathing?

Suddenly, his right arm jerked and punched the overeager attacker in the stomach. Harry was instantly let go, and he brought his left hand up to his face in horror.

“I’m so sorry, Molly!” Harry looked around wildly for something that might relieve the pain he’d just caused to the woman who might as well be his own mother. “I didn’t mean it. Honest. The Healers still aren’t sure when my arm will finally be, well, itself again, I guess.” Harry awkwardly looked at the floor.

“Oh, it’s not a problem, Harry.” Molly held her stomach but continued on. “I’m just happy to see you this Christmas Eve! We missed you last year.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Well, when someone asks you to play in a series of exhibition matches around the globe, it’s rather difficult to turn them down, even if it is over the Yule Holidays. I missed all of you as well. There’s nothing quite like celebrating Christmas at the Burrow.”

Molly beamed at him. “Well, dinner will be ready soon if I can just find where Hermione wandered off. She’s offered to make her family’s Christmas Pudding this year, and Arthur is just so excited to see it done the Muggle way. Why don’t you go on up to Ronald’s room and get yourself settled in?” 

“Thanks, Molly, and Merry Christmas!”

Harry turned, levitated his duffel bag in front of him, and headed up the stairs. As he passed the twins’ room, he heard shouts of laughter behind their closed door. Harry continued up the stairs, opened the door to Ron’s room, and was surprised to find it empty. He set his bag onto the empty bed that was always his when he stayed with the Weasleys and headed back to the twins’ room.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

The laughter in the room immediately ceased, and Harry stood in silence for a minute as he waited for somebody inside to say something.

The door to the room cracked open a few centimeters. A short crop of red hair popped through the crack, followed by two ears, two brown eyes, a large nose, more freckles than Harry could possibly count, and a small pair of lips that were set in a line.

Suddenly, the lips turned up into a smile and the door opened. “Harry! Goodness, we’ve missed you. Come on in before we’re drafted into setting up for Christmas Eve Dinner.”

Harry stepped through the doorway, nodding his thanks to Fred. As the door closed, he was tackled. All he could see was a mess of pale arms and legs, freckles, and ginger hair everywhere. It was good to be back.

“I’ve missed you all, too, but you might want to get off. I accidentally punched your mum downstairs, and it was not exactly a pleasant experience.”

Immediately, Harry found himself with an arm’s width of space around him. Fred, Ron, George, and Charlie were all watching him nervously. Looking at the cards scattered around the floor, Harry could only assume they’d been playing Exploding Snap before he arrived.

“And you lived to tell the tale, Harry?” George asked. “Blimey, she must _really_ like you.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly my fault.” Harry shrugged his right shoulder. “It’s not like I can control it.”

Fred sighed and rubbed Harry’s left shoulder. “How’s Wood taking the loss? Puddlemere United isn’t exactly doing well without their star seeker, are they?”

Ron guffawed as he started picking up the cards. “Not exactly doing well? They’re having their worst season in a century! The reserve seeker hasn’t caught a single snitch. The Cannons are sure to win the Cup this year.”

“Really?” George elbowed his younger brother in the side. “You’ve been best friends with Harry for seventeen years, and you’re still rooting for the Cannons when your best mate is playing for the opposing team? How daft are you?”

“I’ll have you know--”

“Quiet down!” Charlie interrupted. “We’re not here to debate Quidditch; we’re here to hide from Mum. Now, are we going to play another round of Exploding Snap or not?”

All of the boys hurried to pick up the cards from around the room. “So, what are all of you doing hiding in here?” Harry asked.

Charlie chuckled. “Well, it started out with all of us hanging about, playing games. You know how Mum gets when there’s a celebration. Then Bill got pulled away because Victoire wanted to build a snowman, and of course, Fleur’s been trying to avoid any extra movement; the baby’s due any day now. Perce got stuck watching Molly while Hermione’s helping out in the kitchen. Dean’s out in the garage with Dad, and Ginny just left a bit ago to feed Rose. Only the single men remain, happily avoiding any and all responsibilities.”

“Huzzah!” shouted Ron and the twins.

* * *

Later that night, Harry and Charlie lounged on the couch by the fireplace. The couples had all retired to their rooms for the night, and Fred and George had said they had a few presents they needed to finish last-minute. Ron had fallen asleep in the reclining chair, snoring away peacefully.

Harry scooted closer to Charlie. “So, what have you been up to lately? Are you still in Romania?”

Charlie shook his head. “Nah, though they’re still doing well there. They’re opening up a new reserve over in Ireland near Tralee, and I got asked to come help out as a lead trainer. It’s much closer to home. I’ve been helping them set up for about eight months now.” Charlie grinned and reclined, pulling one leg up onto the couch and setting an arm along the backrest. “The dragons are settling in real well, and there’s been talk of potentially taking on some apprentices from Hogwarts with it being so close. Getting Portkeys approved shouldn’t be a problem. What about you? What have you been up to?”

Harry leaned his head on Charlie’s arm and shrugged his right shoulder, taking in the large number of freckles on Charlie’s face and collecting his thoughts. “Well, this happened about a month ago. I was laid up in St. Mungo’s until last week for observation. Now, I’m mostly just trying to adapt to life again.” He frowned. “The Healers gave me some exercises to do, but nobody really knows how long it’ll take for my right arm to be itself again so they’re benching me for at least the rest of the season.” Harry stared at the rug in front of the fire. “There’s been some talk of me coaching the reserve seeker, showing him some moves and running through strategies with him. That’s not particularly safe to be doing with only one reliable hand, though.” Charlie nodded, remembering his own Seeker days. “I suppose now I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to do with all of this free time I’ve found for myself.”

Harry looked back at Charlie, gazing into his deep blue eyes. “So,” Harry whispered as he ran his left hand along Charlie’s leg from his ankle to just past his knee. “What else have you been doing?” Charlie sucked in a breath as Harry rested his hand on Charlie’s thigh. “ _Who_ have you been doing?”

Charlie leaned in closer to whisper in Harry’s ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Hhngkkk!” 

Both boys split apart and looked towards the corner where Ron was sleeping. Ron stretched, rolled on his side, and resumed his quiet snoring.

“Well,” Charlie said, “As much as I’d like to continue this conversation, this is not the place. It’s a full house during the holidays, Mum and Dad are right upstairs, and as oblivious as Ron is, he’s still in the room.”

Harry sighed and stared at Charlie’s right hand, absentmindedly noticing a large shiny scar in the shape of a gnome on his wrist. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Harry, I know exactly what you were thinking. I was thinking the same.” Charlie propped his arm across the backrest of the couch and rested his hand on Harry’s shoulder, gently caressing it. “While you’re trying to figure out what to do with all of this free time you have now, I’d love for you to come back to Ireland with me. Come see the countryside. Meet the dragons. Get some fresh air to clear your head.”

Harry leaned his head against Charlie’s hand and kissed his thumb. “And would I get to spend some personal time with a certain red-haired dragon trainer?”

“Well, yes,” Charlie chuckled. “I think that could be arranged. But, Harry, I’m married to my work.” He moved his hand and stared into Harry’s emerald eyes. “I would love to have you come back with me, but you cannot expect anything long-term to come out of this. That has to be absolutely clear.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “Completely. Nothing serious.”

“So you’ll come back to Ireland with me?”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Charlie grinned and rested his hand on Harry’s thigh. “Before we leave, there’s something I need you to do.” Harry tilted his head and looked at Charlie questioningly. “Coming to a dragon reserve can be a bit of a culture shock. We’re all entirely too attached to our work, and that’s a lot to take in. There’s a book, _Men Who Love Dragons Too Much_ , that does a really great job of explaining our mentality and what to expect. I’ve got a copy up in the twins’ room, and I’ve got a Portkey for the day after Boxing Day. Do you think you could read it before we head out?”

“Of course,” Harry said. “When can I start?”

Charlie leaned in, brushed his lips across Harry’s cheek, and helped him up from the couch. “Let’s get my youngest brother upstairs, and I’ll grab it on the way.”

* * *

Harry and Charlie stood atop Stoatshead Hill at 2:29 p.m. the day after Boxing Day. They were both holding onto a royal purple and lime green argyle sock, waiting for one more minute to pass.

“Are you ready for this, Harry?” Charlie asked.

Harry smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready. I finished reading the book you lent me. I’m excited to take in the beauty of Ireland and see how close the dragons are to the trainers, especially with this being such a new reserve. I think it’s just the thing I needed to help me decide how to move forward,” Harry winked, “And it certainly doesn’t hurt that I’ll get to share a tent with such a strong and gentle dragon trainer.”

The Portkey activated, and Harry felt like he was being sucked through a pipe. Charlie’s elbow was stabbing Harry in the kidney, and Harry’s right arm chose that moment to spasm and hit Charlie in the groin. At least, he thought it was Charlie’s groin? Portkeys were weird.

Harry fell on his back in the… sand? He wasn’t sure why, but he had been expecting to land in a grassy meadow or on a hilltop. He certainly hadn’t been expecting to land on a beach.

Charlie reached out a hand to help Harry up, his eyebrows furrowing together as he frowned. “Bloody hell! I know you still get queasy from Portkey travel, but that’s no reason to punch me. Are you alright?”

Harry bit his lip. “Sorry, Charlie.” He shrugged his right shoulder. “I couldn’t control it.”

Charlie’s face softened. “Of course.” He turned and pointed at the shore across the sound. Above it rose a small mountain range with vibrant green foliage covering it. “That’s where we’re going.”

Harry took a deep breath, embracing the salty scent of the ocean and the feeling of a windy breeze on his back. “This is more amazing than I ever could have imagined, Charlie.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

The two men began their slow trek along the seashore, and Charlie continued speaking. “We have a bit of an interesting set-up here. The combination of the mountains and wetlands provide a rather diverse environment in one place. This allows us to support the welfare of both a clan of Common Welsh Greens and a clan of Hebridean Blacks. Though they’re not native to Ireland, they are native to the British Isles. Here, we can support them in a habitat similar to their native homes, and we’re in an ideal location for business with the UK, though we tend to let our accountant deal with the business side of things.”

Harry asked, “Do all of the people working with you love dragons too much?”

Charlie chuckled and shook his head. “Aye, most of them do. All of the dragon trainers love dragons too much, obviously. Our head of security loves dragons almost as much as we do. Well, I suppose the only person who doesn’t is our accountant. We’ve changed the wanker’s mind a wee bit, but we hired him on to take care of business and finances and such. It’s best if he doesn’t love the dragons too much; he’s got to keep a clear head when he’s working out contracts.”

“That makes sense,” Harry said, and the two continued chatting as they walked along the coast, over the hills, and finally to the gate of Craic: The Irish Dragon Reserve.

The sun was setting behind the hills to the right, casting an orange glow over everything. Harry and Charlie walked under the gate’s arch and passed a grey stone building. Ahead of them, Harry saw a large bonfire, and there were at least a couple of dozen tents scattered about past the fire. He thought there might be a couple more bonfires scattered in between them, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Beyond, Harry could only see green hills, and he wasn’t sure where the dragons were.

“The dragons mostly stay over those hills, and some of them live out in the wetlands and islands nearby. They tend to leave camp alone,” Charlie explained. “My tent’s just up ahead. You’ll be sharing with me, of course, but I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Harry chuckled and curled his left hand around Charlie’s bicep, gently stroking it with his thumb and not-so-subtly feeling it up. “I don’t mind at all.”

Charlie flexed his arm, and Harry gasped at the feeling of Charlie’s strong, bulky muscles. Just then, a man about thirty meters away shouted, “Oi, Charlie! You have a second?”

“Aye!” Charlie replied. The man wore a loose beige linen shirt with a black leather vest on top, emerald green trousers, and black knee-high dragon hide boots. As he ran closer, Harry saw he had blonde hair pulled up into a bun, and some of the strands closer to his head appeared almost brown, probably drenched with sweat from the heat of the campfires. Harry thought he wouldn’t mind if he took off a few layers to cool down.

As the man neared Charlie and Harry, he continued speaking. “We’re glad to have you back, mate. One of the Welsh’s, Jasmine’s whelp, accidentally flew into a rock and gashed up his wing mighty bad. I’d rather not leave it to one of the new trainers; he won’t fly again if they muck it all up.” 

Now the man was standing two meters away, and Harry could easily see the features of the other man’s face. He hadn’t recognized him now that he was sporting a tan, but his steel gray eyes and pointed nose and chin gave him away. His head was cocked to the side, and a silver hoop in his right ear shone in the firelight. He had no facial hair, not even a hint of stubble, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that his childhood nemesis couldn’t grow any.

Harry was too busy staring to notice that his hand had clenched around Charlie’s bicep and his mouth had fallen open slightly. Draco’s eyes kept sweeping over Harry’s body from his curly black hair to his black knee-high dragon hide boots and back up again over his low riding jeans and sea blue jumper. Charlie looked between the two men with a raised eyebrow.

“Potter?” asked Draco Malfoy. “I haven’t seen you in, what, nine years? What are you doing here? And what in Merlin’s name has happened to your arm?”

“Draco,” Charlie interrupted. “Where’s the whelp at?”

Draco pointed off to the left past a couple of tents, towards a hill that was larger than all of the others. “He couldn’t have been more than fifty meters from Jasmine’s nest. Toby’s looking after him, but I said I’d see if I couldn’t find you before he tries to heal anything. You’d best be on your way.”

Charlie nodded. “Thanks! I trust you can show Harry around. He’ll be staying in my tent; it’d be swell if you’d let him drop off his things first.”

Charlie ran off before Draco could respond. Draco stared off after him, turned back to Harry, and raised an eyebrow.

“Really, whatever are you doing here?”

Harry readjusted his duffel bag. “Charlie invited me out here to spend some time with him and see the dragons, meet the people he works with.” Harry pushed a stray curl off of his face. “What are you doing here? You never seemed to care for Care of Magical Creatures back in school. You certainly didn’t care for Hippogriffs.”

Draco sniffed. “For your information, Potter, I work here. It appears I’m quite fond of dragons, actually, seeing as my name _literally_ means ‘Dragon.’ I’m the accountant for Craic, though my responsibilities extend far beyond managing numbers. I also manage marketing, personal relations, and basically the entire business side of the reserve.” He took a breath and looked Harry up and down once more. “It just so happens that I also give tours. Let’s go; we’ll stop by Charlie’s tent on the way so you can get a load off.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

They began walking in the direction Charlie had originally pointed. “So, Potter, what happened to your arm? Shouldn’t you be off catching snitches for that team of yours? What was it, the Appleby Arrows?”

“Puddlemere United,” corrected Harry. He shrugged. “Err, I had a nasty run-in with a snitch and a bludger. We were playing the Appleby Arrows, actually, and a bludger collided with my hand as I was catching the snitch.” He acted out the scene, gesticulating wildly. “Of course, just breaking my hand would’ve been far too easy; a flare of magic burst from the snitch when it broke, too. Now my right hand and forearm spasm randomly, like they have a mind of their own. I’m benched for the rest of the season. The Healers aren’t sure how long it’ll take to heal, so I thought, ‘Why not visit Ireland?’”

Draco nodded. “Fair point. There’s hardly a place in the world with more beautiful scenery than right here. You could do a lot worse than Ireland.”

* * *

Draco led Harry back towards the entrance a few hours later. There was a bonfire roaring, and there must have been nearly a dozen people sitting around it on roughly-hewn log benches.

“Oi, Harry!” Charlie shouted and slapped the empty space on the bench next to him. “Glad to see you’ve made it back in one piece. I was afraid this plonker might have pushed you off a hill or into a dragon’s den or something!”

“Ha ha, very funny, Charlie.” Draco sniffed as he took a seat on the next bench over. “I’ll have you know that we managed to share a common room in eighth year, and everyone came out the other side perfectly unharmed.”

Harry nodded and grinned as he settled his left hand on Charlie’s thigh. “It’s true. We even managed to get on when we had drinking parties after the Quidditch games.” He chuckled and shared a knowing look with Draco. “We bonded over our mutual quest to find a way to kick Neville and Blaise out whenever they started drunk shagging on the common room couches.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “That’s a sight I could do with forgetting! Obliviate me, please!”

As Draco burst into a round of laughter, he reached back and pulled the leather tie in his hair loose. He slowly shook his head, his blond locks cascading down to his waist. Harry stared, mouth agape, as Draco slid his hands down his hair, stroking it lovingly. Harry closed his mouth as Draco tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, but Charlie had already taken note of Harry’s behavior.

Draco grinned. “Do you remember when Parvati and Padma tried to cook curry in the fireplace?”

“And then McGonagall firecalled in the middle of it?” Harry asked.

“Yes! And she slammed her nose into the pan!”

“Oh, that was the best.”

“That curry was bloody good, too,” Draco remarked. “Oi! How come we don’t eat curry here?” he shouted across the bonfire.

“D’y’know how ter make it?” shouted a group of men who were wearing aprons. Draco shook his head. “Can’t make it if we don’ know how!”

By now, Harry had leaned into Charlie’s shoulder. He whispered into Charlie’s ear, “Charlie, we’re not in the Burrow anymore.”

Charlie nodded. “Yes, and?” 

Harry slid his hand further up Charlie’s thigh. 

“Ohhh…”

Harry licked up the outer edge of Charlie’s earlobe, and Charlie had to bite down a moan. “Why don’t you go to my tent and get ready for me, hmmm? I’ll be along shortly.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Harry whispered. He dove his tongue under Charlie’s earlobe, stroked it back up Charlie’s ear, and then sauntered away.

Charlie took a deep breath and stood, readjusting himself.

When he was certain Harry had made it into the tent, he joined Draco on the other bench. Draco had been watching Harry walk away, but he turned his attention to Charlie’s face as he sat down.

“Would you care to join us?” Charlie quietly asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Join you? Whatever for?”

Charlie let out a sigh and elbowed his friend. “You know what I mean, Draco. I’m heading back to the tent, and there’s no way you missed how Harry was acting. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

Draco shook his head. “No, you go on ahead without me. Get your kicks on or whatever it is the two of you get up to. Zabini is coming ‘round for another tour tomorrow, so I’m hitting the hay for the night. Have to keep my wits about me if we’re striking up a deal.”

Charlie stood and clapped Draco roughly on the back. “Yes, please get loads of sleep! I’m sure we’ll all be thanking you for it in the long run. Have a good night!” He began to walk away.

“You as well, Weasley!” Draco shouted after him. “I’m still expecting you up on time in the morning to make a decent second impression on Blaise!”

Charlie gave Draco a middle finger salute as he continued walking towards his tent. He heard a roar in the distance and saw a flash of light past the hill to his right. Assuming it was simply the last of the Hebridean Blacks settling down for the night, he opened the flap to his tent and slipped inside.

* * *

When Harry stepped out of Charlie’s tent the next day, the sun was high in the sky. He stretched his arms out wide and stood up on his toes. His back cracked, and Harry winced at the twinge of discomfort in his arse. As Harry relaxed and rested back on his heels, he inhaled the salty ocean breeze and tried to identify what was mixing with it. The smoke from last night’s bonfire would have cleared already, wouldn’t it? So why was he smelling campfire smoke and… there was something else... sausages maybe?

Harry followed his nose towards the front of the camp and was surprised to see a small bonfire already roaring. One of the reserve’s cooks shouted, “Mornin’, Harry!” and thrust a large plate of bangers and mash into Harry’s hands. “Had a late night, did ya?”

Harry nodded and stabbed one of the sausages with a fork. He took a bite, savouring the greasy meat as he swallowed it. “It was an incredible night, and this is some of the best bangers and mash I’ve ever tasted!” Harry shoved the rest of the sausage in his mouth. “The coach would have my hide if he knew I was eating this, but he can go screw himself. Thanks for the meal!”

Harry quickly finished off his plate and returned it to the cooks. He decided he’d go exploring and see where everyone had disappeared to this afternoon.

As Harry made his way up his fourth hill of the day, he saw Draco standing on a cliff and talking to a dark-skinned man. The man had short hair and was wearing a black top coat, slim-cut maroon trousers, and black ankle-high dragonhide boots. Draco was rather animated, gesturing to the area below them and constantly moving his hands to make his point. The man had his hands tucked into his coat pockets as he listened to Draco speak.

Harry couldn’t stop watching Draco’s finely manicured hands as he moved them. Draco looked so carefree like this, but Harry knew it had to be a finely controlled and calculated act. He’d spent enough time watching Draco over the years to know he wasn’t one to do something without an intricately detailed plan behind his actions. Harry continued walking towards the pair and heard snippets of the conversation as they were carried by the breeze.

“...Finest dragonhide around.”

“...Won’t find any reserves closer to England than this one.”

“Green is very popular… Hogwarts.”

Draco and his companion turned around and started walking towards Harry. Draco was still continuing his spiel. “Next, we’ll visit the Hebridean Blacks over on the nearby islands. We saw them the last time you were here, but their numbers have greatly increased since then, what with the--”

“Potter, what are you doing here?” Blaise interrupted. He looked at Harry and then back to Draco bewilderedly, noting how his mate was staring at Harry’s hair. “Isn’t Ireland just a tad far away from Puddlemere’s pitch?”

Harry shrugged his right shoulder at Blaise.

“Ah, right,” Blaise nodded. “My sincerest apologies. Neville mentioned you’d suffered an injury. Puddlemere can’t be doing well in the running for the Cup this year with you out of commission.”

Harry grimaced and looked at Draco’s immaculate black dragonhide boots. “They’re not, but there’s not much I can do about it. What brings you out to Ireland? Visiting Malfoy?”

“No, actually, though that’s certainly a side benefit.” Blaise grinned. “I’ve actually started a new company, Zabini’s Quality Dragonhide. We specialize in crafting dragonhide goods for the discerning witch or wizard. I’m currently looking to source our dragonhide for herbology gloves. A new year at Hogwarts is approaching, and so approaches the Hogwarts supply shopping season.” He winked. “You can never start looking for quality materials too early.”

“And we have the finest dragonhide you’ll find in the next thousand kilometers, Blaise,” Draco supplied, turning his attention away from Harry’s tight black jumper at the prospect of procuring this contract. “Plus, any shipping costs you’d accumulate from here are bound to be far less than anything you’d get from the continent.”

Blaise nodded. “That’s true, of course. Now, you had mentioned something about the Hebridean Blacks? I’d like to see them; as much as it pleases my Slytherin heart to see more students acquiring green dragonhide gloves for their studies, black is still our far most popular colour.”

“Yes, right this way,” Draco said. “Potter, I believe Charlie said you could go out for a fly to the islands this afternoon if you were getting antsy. You can join Blaise and me if you’d like.”

“Thanks, Malfoy. I think I’ll just keep hiking if it’s all the same.” Harry gestured with his left hand towards where the pair had been walking. “Please, don’t let me keep you. It was a pleasure to see you, Blaise.”

“Likewise, Potter,” Blaise responded as he winked at Harry. “We’ll have to catch up at the bonfire tonight. You still haven’t told me what brought you out to Ireland yet.”

“Of course!” Harry raised his left hand as a farewell. If Harry’s eyes rested on Draco’s navy trousers and the arse they showcased as he watched the pair walk away, Harry didn’t notice. It was time he went hiking through the Irish countryside. It would give him time to clear his head, and maybe he’d even get to see some of the dragons this afternoon.

* * *

That night, the crowd around the bonfire was loud, shouting to one another in drunken merriment. Harry had settled on a log with Blaise, and they were each on their third tankard of Longbottom’s Specialty Ale. Neville had apparently discovered a new magical hop plant during his studies to become Hogwarts’ Herbology Master. When ale was made with these particular hops, the alcohol was far more potent and the drinker tended to be more loose-lipped than when drinking other brews.

Though they had had plenty of experience drinking with Neville, Harry and Blaise had never been known for pacing themselves. Currently, Harry was sprawled out on the log with his head on Blaise’s shoulder, and Blaise was swinging his tankard around to the beat of whatever Irish drinking song the cooks were singing now.

Draco and Charlie were sitting together on the opposite side of the bonfire, each nursing their first tankard of the ale. 

“So,” Charlie asked, “Any word on what Blaise will decide?”

Draco nodded. “Don’t tell anyone, but we’ve already hashed out the details of the contract. He signed it late this afternoon. Assuming all goes well with the dragons, Craic shouldn’t have any financial trouble for the foreseeable future.”

They clinked their tankards and each took a sip of the bitter, slightly floral ale. “Do you have any plans to celebrate?”

Draco shook his head. “No. Now that the stress of making this contract is over, I’ve thought about taking a couple of days to head back to England for the new year and check on Mother, but there aren’t any plans to celebrate. I’ve simply done my job.”

“Draco, you’ve got to let up a little,” Charlie said, clapping Draco on the back. “Tell you what. Why don’t you join me and Harry tonight and let loose? Celebrate with us.”

Draco scoffed. “Please. He’s horribly enamoured with you for whatever reason. It must be the red Weasley hair. After all, he’s slept next to a Weasley for eight years of his life.”

Charlie decided to ignore the quasi-insult and pointed across the campfire. “That’s not the case. Look at him right now.”

“He’s crawling all over Blaise,” Draco said. “Merlin, somebody will have to break the news to poor old Neville. He’ll be ever so heartbroken.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and elbowed his friend. “He’s drunk, you daft bastard. Yes, he’s fallen all over Blaise, but who’s he looking at?” Charlie took a sip of his ale. “You, he’s looking at you, Malfoy.” Charlie let out a deep sigh. “He may be shagging me, and he may be laying on Blaise, but even when he’s drunk and out of his mind, he’s only got eyes for you.”

Draco sipped his ale and met Harry’s eyes across the campfire. They were the most beautiful shade of green he had ever seen, and they were simply spectacular glistening in the light of the campfire. What was the most striking, perhaps, was that Charlie was right; Harry was staring straight at him, as if he’d see straight into Draco’s soul if he stared hard enough.

“You see it now, don’t you?” Charlie chuckled. “You know, strange as it is, I don’t think he’s even realized that he wants you.” Draco let out a long sigh. “And I don’t think you’d realized you want him, either.”

Draco turned his head to study Charlie’s face. Charlie had pulled his hair back into a braid today, revealing the full extent of his freckles. His blue eyes were twinkling as they reflected the flames of the bonfire, but they seemed kind and knowing, as if they held the wisdom of the universe within them. Charlie’s lips were curled up at the edges, and his eyebrow raised as he took another sip of ale.

Draco swallowed hard and gazed into his own tankard. “You said the two of you are shagging?” Charlie made a noise of assent, and Draco worried his lip. “Why are you trying to push us together then?”

“Well...” Draco glanced at Charlie. “Draco, I’m not looking for anything serious. Harry knew that before he left England with me. He seemed lost, and I wanted to give him the space away from England that I knew he would need to find himself. Mind you, the shagging is bloody incredible, and I never imagined this turn of events, but I want Harry to be happy. You know I’m basically married to the dragons, and I could never give Harry what he needs.” Charlie took another swig of ale. “I think we’ve become close enough for me to care about your happiness as well, Malfoy. You used to be a seeker; get your snitch.”

Draco nodded and stared into the bonfire, slowly sipping his ale.

“Again, you’re more than welcome to join us tonight if you’d like.”

“No.” Draco shook his head and gestured across the campfire. “He’s completely knackered. That would be taking advantage of him, and it’s not fair to take advantage of anyone, no matter how much you may think they want it.”

Draco took a stealing breath and turned to Charlie. “Tell you what, Weasley. Talk to him when he’s sober. If you can convince him, then I’ll gladly join the two of you one night. Not tonight, though, or any other night when he’s had alcohol.”

Charlie raised both his eyebrows and nodded. “That’s surprisingly gentlemanly of you.”

“Well,” Draco finished off his ale, “perhaps I just know what it’s like to only be offered the illusion of a choice. It’s a horror I wouldn’t force on anyone.”

Later that night, Draco rolled over in bed in his own tent, trying to ignore the drunken moans from the next tent over. He eventually fell asleep, but he still heard them in his dreams.

“Fuck me… Please… I need it… Malfoy… so hot.”

* * *

Harry rubbed his eyes, rifling through Charlie’s bathroom cabinet and wondering why Charlie had to have so many loud, clinking vials in his bathroom.

_Knock knock!_

Harry winced and slowly turned around, trying his best to remain standing. Charlie was standing in the doorway, holding a vial between his thumb and index finger.

“I thought you might be a wreck this morning. Looking for this, Harry?”

Harry reached out to grab the vial, but Charlie pulled it away.

“After you take this, we’re heading on a walk. I want to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” Harry said, taking the hangover potion from his red-headed friend. He pulled off the cork, held the mouth to his lips, and downed the potion in one go.

Harry blinked at Charlie a few times and put the empty vial in a box on Charlie’s counter. Harry bit his lips and nodded. “I’m ready for a walk.” He paused a moment. “And bacon. Any chance there’s bacon on the griddle this morning?”

Rolling his eyes, Charlie stepped towards Harry and put his arm around the slightly taller man’s back. “Let’s see what we can scrounge up on the way, mate.”

As luck would have it, Charlie and Harry were able to leisurely eat a breakfast of bacon and eggs before heading on their hike. Charlie chose to lead Harry back down towards the sea, chatting about nothing in particular until they were well out of hearing range of the reserve.

“How have the past few days been, Harry?” Charlie asked.

Harry grinned and gazed out over the sea. “It’s been absolutely incredible. The dragons and everyone here seem to be so… free. Free to be who they are and to do what they please. I never imagined there could be any place like this, where I don’t feel any kind of pressure on me.” Harry turned back to his friend. “Thank you for inviting me out here. I’m definitely enjoying spending time with you, especially after the sun goes down.”

Charlie smiled softly and took a seat in the sand. “I’ve enjoyed it, too. I actually wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Really?” Harry asked as sat down beside Charlie. His brow furrowed. “Have I done something wrong?” He looked away towards his injured arm. “Was it a problem that you had to hold me up the other night?”

“No,” Charlie answered. “No, there’s absolutely nothing wrong. Being with you has been absolutely perfect. Every moment I get to spend making you writhe with pleasure is completely breathtaking.” Charlie laid down on the warm beach, pillowing his head on his arms and soaking in the warmth of the sand on his back and the sun on his face. “I want to spend as much time as I can making you feel good because I know this isn’t forever. I’m not the kind to settle down with anyone.”

Harry settled back on his elbows and looked down into Charlie’s face. “I already knew this wouldn’t last, but why did we come all the way out here to talk about it?” Harry stared out at one of the islands. “Do I need to go home soon?”

Charlie took Harry’s left hand in his right and rolled his eyes. “No, you don’t need to go home. You get to choose when it’s time for you to leave. I’ll never say no to inviting you into my bed.” Charlie swallowed. “I actually wanted to know how you’d feel about inviting someone else to join us tonight.”

Harry turned his head towards Charlie and raised an eyebrow. He took in Charlie’s relaxed posture, his gentle blue eyes, and the slight curve of his smile.

“I meant it when I said that I want to spend as much time as I can making you feel good while you’re here.” Charlie squeezed Harry's hand. “Just imagine how much more you’ll be able to feel with four hands on you instead of two,” Charlie pushed up and leaned towards Harry. “With two mouths on you instead of one,” Charlie licked up Harry’s jawline. “With two cocks filling your every hole as you’re taken from every angle...”

Harry’s right arm twitched into the air and he fell into the sand with a _thud_.

Charlie wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him up into a sitting position, his biceps barely flexing at the labor.

“Are you okay, Harry?” he asked.

Hardy rolled his right shoulder and stretched his arm in its sling. “I’d say okay describes it,” he sighed as he rested his head on Charlie’s chest. “Would anybody here even want to have a threesome with someone who’s so horribly injured? Everyone is so strong and athletic, and sometimes I feel like I’m just dead weight.”

Charlie leaned forward and pressed his lips to the top of Harry’s head, one of Harry’s wayward curls poking into his right nostril and tickling him. “I promise you it doesn’t matter to the person I have in mind. He doesn’t think any less of you because of your injury.”

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of smoke and sandalwood that seemed so infused into Charlie’s being. “Okay, I trust you. Bring him with you tonight, but leave it as a surprise. Please?”

Charlie grinned and hugged Harry closer to him. “Thank you, Harry. You won’t regret this.”

Harry nodded, and the couple cuddled together on the beach in contented silence until the sun was high overhead and threatening to leave Charlie with a horrible sunburn.

* * *

Harry sat cross-legged on Charlie’s bed, reclining his back against the yew headrest and sliding his feet back and forth across the soft black bed sheets. Charlie was supposed to be in shortly with the man who’d be joining them tonight. 

Harry found that he was excited for this new experience and perhaps slightly jittery as he ran his hands over and under the pillows. After all, his fame in England as both the Saviour and as the star seeker for Puddlemere United had meant that most people wanted to be with him to gain fame, even if it was fleeting, rather than to give them both mutual pleasure, and he’d been reluctant to shag anyone he hadn’t known from Hogwarts as a general rule. Here at the reserve, his name was still known for being the Saviour, and a couple of the trainers followed Quidditch, but he was mainly known as Charlie’s friend. These people never even had the _Daily Prophet_ delivered, and they certainly didn’t care about his fame.

Even though he felt comfortable enough to experience having a threesome here, Harry still felt nervous. He’d opted to take off his shirt, but he’d changed into emerald lounge pants and left them on as he waited. His wand was carefully tucked away in Charlie’s night side dresser, and he was hopeful that he wouldn’t have any need for it tonight.

A stray curl fell into Harry’s face, and he stared at it for a moment. Harry pushed it back on top of his head, leaned over to the night side dresser he’d claimed as his, and picked up a skinny strap of leather. Harry carefully gathered all of his hair back and tied it in a short ponytail.

“Wait here for a moment, will you?” Harry heard from the hallway.

A few seconds later, Charlie stepped into the doorway of the bedroom. He’d put his hair up in a bun while they were walking back from the beach that afternoon, and it was still up now. Charlie’s beige linen shirt had a large rip in the left arm, and Harry was afraid to ask about the new scar tissue under the rip. He had a soft smile on his face.

“Is everything okay?” Charlie asked. “Are you having any second thoughts?”

Harry put his hands in his lap. “Everything’s good. Why? Did something go wrong?”

Charlie shook his head. “No, nothing is wrong.” He pointed his thumb down the hallway. “He’s here in the living room. I just wanted to make sure you were still okay with it.”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled. “I’m still okay with it. Can you go ahead and bring the poor bloke on in before he loses his nerves waiting out there?”

* * *

“Your arse is so fecking tight, Harry! I’m going to—”

“Charlie, we need you!” shouted a voice from outside of the bedroom. “Charlie, where are you?”

A large man with dark brown hair and what Harry had come to think of as the reserve’s uniform walked through the doorway to the bedroom.

“Charlie! We need you out with the Hebridean Blacks!”

Within seconds, Draco and Charlie had pulled out of Harry, Charlie had leapt out of bed, Draco had pushed Harry down and covered him with his body, and Charlie had thrown the brown striped duvet over both men. Charlie stood there, his scarlet cock erect and curved slightly to the left, leaking a river of precum from the head of his cock to the wooden floor.

“Toby! What in the name of Merlin’s bloody y-fronts are you doing in here?” Charlie shouted. “Did you not learn not to go barging into other people’s tents in the middle of the fucking night?”

Toby swallowed and had the decency to turn his eyes to the floor. “We need you, Charlie. There was a landslide on one of the islands, and Jackie’s wing is pretty severely damaged.” Draco whipped his head around from his position on top of Harry. Toby glanced up, and his eyes widened when he saw who Charlie was with. “I wouldn’t have come running in here if we didn’t absolutely need you right now, mate.”

Charlie sighed and looked over his lovers with longing. “Wait outside for me, Toby. I’ll be right out.”

Toby nodded and walked away.

“Draco, take good care of Harry,” Charlie instructed as he gathered his clothes from around the room. “I doubt I’ll be back before the sun rises.” He began putting on his clothes, having great difficulty maneuvering his pants and trousers onto his hips without harming his cock. “You can stay the night here, Draco. Use anything you need; Harry knows where I keep all of my spare things.” Charlie leaned over and kissed both of his boys’ cheeks. “Have a good night.”

Charlie slid on his dragonhide boots and ran out of the bedroom without another word.

Draco pressed his lips to the soft skin of Harry’s shoulder. “Are you all right, Harry?”

Harry moaned, “Hurts, Draco. Need to come _so bad_.”

“It’ll be alright,” Draco whispered. “I’ll help you come. Just tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” Harry demanded. “Fill me up with your big, fat cock.” Shuddering from the feel of Draco’s tongue on his neck, Harry panted hard. “Do it now. I’m so bloody close it’s killing me.”

Harry could feel Draco’s smirk against the skin on his back. Draco gently took the red, engorged head of his cock between his fingers. Making sure it was still well-coated with Harry’s saliva, he eased the tip into the puckered rim of Harry’s arse and gasped.

Charlie had told Draco that sex with Harry was unlike anything else in the world, but he hadn’t said that entering the tight heat of Harry’s most intimate place was akin to dying and returning to life. This was total and complete bliss like he had never known before with Harry’s walls clenching around him as he slowly pushed forward until his balls were resting against Harry’s arse.

“Merlin’s balls, Harry, you’re so tight,” Draco groaned. “I won’t last long.”

Harry moaned loudly and canted his hips backwards. “Move!”

Slowly, Draco pulled himself out of Harry, watching Harry’s arsehole stretch around his cock as it emerged from Harry’s tight heat.

Draco collapsed against Harry as he quickly thrust back in, panting in Harry’s ear. He reached one of his tanned yet still pale hands around Harry’s waist and firmly grasped the smaller man’s cock. Sliding up the shaft, Draco gathered the precum leaking from Harry’s dick and smeared it down, lubing up Harry’s cock so he could stroke it that much faster.

“Come, Harry,” Draco whispered. “Come for me. Come all over my hand and squeeze your bloody arsehole around my cock until I just can’t take it anymore.”

Harry came with a shout, his body tensing as he rode out wave after wave of glorious blinding pleasure. 

Draco bucked wildly, Harry’s passage clamping around him like a vice and triggering his own orgasm.

As Draco shook against Harry, Harry’s right arm flailed and hit the headboard, causing both men to fall down in a heap of limbs.

Draco let his cock fall out of Harry’s arse, and he collapsed to Harry’s left side to avoid being hit by the arm. Wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist, he asked, “Are you all right, Harry?”

Harry let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, burying his face in the pillow beneath him.

Pulling Harry closer to him, Draco saw the shiny glistening of tears on Harry’s cheek. He reached up and wiped them away, giving Harry a slight squeeze with his arms.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired. “Let me help you.”

Harry sniffled and tried to curl further into himself, but Draco just pulled him closer. Waving his hand, he cast a Cleansing Charm on them both, hoping the feeling of being clean would speed things along.

After a few minutes, Harry began to uncurl. “It’s my arm,” he whispered to Draco. “It’s getting worse.”

“Didn’t the Healers say that it could be fixed?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders, accidentally bumping one of them into Draco’s chin. “They aren’t really sure. They said it should eventually heal as the magic affecting it recedes, but it’s been steadily getting worse.” Harry rolled over and buried his head under Draco’s chin and into the taller man’s chest. “I may never be able to play Quidditch again.”

Draco took a deep breath. “Is there anything else you want to do if you can’t play Quidditch?”

“No!” Harry whimpered. “Playing Quidditch gave me so much freedom. You know as well as anyone that I was always under somebody’s thumb, playing some sort of pawn while I was at Hogwarts. I didn’t have any freedom growing up with my aunt and uncle before I came to Hogwarts.” Harry took a deep breath in. “When I’m flying, even if I’m chasing a snitch and avoiding bludgers, it feels like it’s just me and the open air. Nothing else could make me feel like that.” Harry blinked a few times. “Well, the absolutely incredible orgasms you and Charlie have given me have come close.”

“Let’s sleep on it,” Draco suggested. “Things don’t always look so bleak in the morning.” Draco hugged Harry close and began singing a lullaby his mother used to sing to him. It was a soft, slow melody, and the lyrics told of dragons who were breathing fire in their burrows, lighting the furnaces that kept the earth warm.

Harry’s breathing soon evened out, and Draco laid there all night, spooning the younger man as he slept soundly.

* * *

The next afternoon, Harry sat by the bonfire, quill and parchment in hand as he drafted a letter to Ron.

“Harry!” Draco shouted from behind him. “Would you mind going for a walk with me? I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Harry set his supplies on the log bench beside him and stood, placing a few pebbles on the parchment to keep it from flying away. “Where are we off to?”

Draco grinned and led Harry up to the tallest hill at Craic. “Well, if I must say, I’ve grown rather fond of having you here.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize it until recently, but I’ve respected you and actually found you attractive since at least eighth year. It’s taken me a rather long time to come to understand how I feel about you, especially since we haven’t seen each other for so many years.”

Draco took a deep breath and continued on. “I know you’ve had a difficult time coping with your injury and what it could mean for your future.” He paused for a moment. “We actually have an opening on our security team right now. Jamie is looking for an experienced flier who isn’t afraid of getting close to the dragons if need be. I’ve recommended you for the position, that is if you’re interested. You’d spend your days and some nights flying all over the reserve, monitoring the dragons and the borders. The dragon trainers can handle any incidents involving the dragons, so you’d really only need one hand on the broom at any given time.”

Draco looked out over the horizon towards the reserve’s islands. A Hebridean Black was shooting flames into the sky. “Jamie’s prepared to offer you the position if you’ll take it. I told him you’d probably need some time to think it over. After all, it would mean moving out here to Ireland, and you’d have to quit Puddlemere United.” Draco swallowed. “Anyway, the option is there. You know my thoughts on it, but this needs to be your decision and yours alone.”

Harry nodded, unshed tears glistening in his eyes as they reflected the afternoon sunlight. “Thank you, Draco. This means more than you could know.” He sniffed. “I’ll have to take a bit to think about it.”

“Of course, of course. Take all the time you need.”

* * *

_Dear Oliver,_

_I thought I would tell you the news first, and I’m well aware that you’ll be even more heart-broken than you already were. You’ll get over it for the sake of the team._

_I’ve decided to hang up my Puddlemere United jersey, at least for now._

_My right hand hasn’t gotten any better; if anything, it’s gotten worse. You need to go ahead and either train Badgett up or recruit a new seeker. It’s for the best._

_As you’ve probably heard, I went to Ireland with Charlie after Boxing Day. He sends his best wishes. The new dragon reserve out here has hired me on for their security team. I’ll still get to fly every day and feel the wind through my hair, but I won’t need to use my pesky right arm._

_I’m still rooting for Puddlemere United, and I will be for the rest of time._

_Harry_


End file.
